Heartlines
by Tears of Ebon-Grey
Summary: Caroline had lived her life to the fullest. She'd loved and been loved in return. Twenty years had passed since she'd last seen his face and now, five weeks out from her wedding day, that dimpled smile and those bright blue eyes were all she could think of... (Sequel to Thistle & Weeds)
1. Part One

**My poor beautiful Enzo! TVD truly pissed me off with their latest episode and the direction they've taken Enzo's character. That being said, the new episode of The Originals was mighty interesting. I do so love to hate Mikael ;)**

**This story, so far, has four parts and is the third instalment to the **Black Hearts **series. **

**Please check out the two preceding stories before starting this if you have not done so already. **

**Also, I ask that you read with an open mind at the beginning. It is now very AU after what has recently occurred on both shows. **

**Thank you for your continued support. It is truly lovely to read each and every review.**

**I apologise for any mistakes. I have had a trying week and with no Beta to catch them, a few may have slipped through the cracks.**

**Happy reading :)**

* * *

Morning brought with it birdsong and confusion as a soft warm light slowly filled the room. She could hear the sounds of the city coming to life. The sweet chirp of birdsong, the low roar of passing cars on the street below; it was barely six thirty in the morning and Atlanta was already awake, bright and energetic and ready for another busy day. It was on days like this that Caroline wished for a normal, boring human life. Or at least, a life without the heightened sense smell, taste and _sound_. She wanted to be able to sleep in, to not hear Atlanta sing her song; Caroline wished for one day, one beautiful Sunday where she could simply lay in bed and sleep the day away. It was a beautiful dream, unrealistic but beautiful.

Her life was busy, chaotic even. How she managed to juggle the conflicting commitments in her life was sometimes a mystery even to her. She had to keep moving though. Caroline liked the hustle, the busy push and pull of the city. She liked being busy, needed to be busy. To actually stop, to slow down and let it all in, to relax and let her mind wander back; Caroline hated being idle, she hated thinking of the past. It was too painful.

So she kept looking forward. She kept moving, kept busy. It was only on days like today, where her bed held more appeal than the day she'd had planned, the one that was circled in her diary and highlighted on her phone, the day that Caroline couldn't forget even if she wanted to, that she wanted it all to simply stop and fade away. Caroline wanted to sleep, to bypass the day entirely and wakeup to a new working week. Monday really couldn't come soon enough.

Warm lips found their way to the back of her neck as a pair of arms slowly encircled her waist, drawing her back into the hard planes of a chest she knew only too well. Every crevice, every defined arch and taught muscle was like brail to her touch. She was a blind fool and he a book she was only too eager to read.

Over and over again.

His lips kissed a hot trail down her back. Caroline let out a soft moan at the sensation, her hands clenching the soft blue coverlet to her chest as her hips instinctively moved back. A throaty laugh reverberated down her spine as his mouth finally stopped its decent. Caroline groaned in frustration, trying to wriggle free of her captor but strong hands gripped her hips, curling around bone, flipping her onto her stomach. She let out a squeal of surprise at the action, her feet instinctively kicking out as he straddled her.

"Stop it!" Caroline giggled as fingers slowly teased her side. He knew every inch of her body, knew how to play it like a fine-tuned pianoforte. He was the master musician and she the ever pliable, ever reliable and willing instrument. He could make her sing, make her weep, cry with unknown joy and pleasure. He could also make her laugh. "I'm serious! I have to go dress shopping with Elena in an hour."

A heavy weight settled on top of her as he leaned forward. Caroline tried to stifle her moan as teeth slowly nipped at the soft flesh behind her ear. His breath was hot and intoxicating. "The shops don't open till nine."

"We're having breakfast," Caroline kicked at his back half-heartedly, the action awkward and ineffective as his legs moved to pin her own to the bed. She could feel his smirk on her neck.

"Skip it."

Caroline kicked out again. "No."

"Yes."

His stubborn grunt was punctuated by a sharp nip to her neck. Caroline stifled a groan, finally using her body weight to push back and fling him off the bed. He fell loudly and heavily to the floor.

She grinned, scooting over to the edge of the bed to look down at the naked man on the floor. "No. I love breakfast."

He eyed her with cheeky defiance, a mischievous smirk on his lips. There was a seductive spark in his dark brown eyes. It drew her in. "I know something you love more..."

Caroline rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow from the bed. She threw it with such force that it hit him in the face with a loud thump, the force making him fall back onto the floor. Her eyes raked over the taught lines of his body. Her appraisal was far from subtle and he caught her, as he always did. He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Urgh," she threw another pillow at him for good measure."I have to get ready. I am not skipping breakfast. If I do, I'll be late and I am not rescheduling today again."

She moved off the bed, ignoring the way his eyes travelled over her body. It was not like she was ashamed. He had seen every inch of her and loved her despite the scars. Being a vampire was not as easy or as danger-free as other supernaturals liked to believe. Perhaps it was her choice in friends or her inevitable attraction to beautifully broken things. Whatever it was, Caroline almost always found herself in thick of it. She could hardly remember how many poisoned blades had cut through her skin over the years. Vervain laced ropes, sharpened stakes; all her wounds tended to heal flawlessly but there were some, the very worst of them all, that did not.

His eyes ravished her as she leaned forward to pick up a discarded robe. She tried to ignore him as best she could.

"I need a dress," she told him matter-of-factly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Caroline eyed him as she tied the silk sash of the robe into a bow at her waist. "Otherwise, I might as well walk down the aisle naked."

"Now _that _is an idea I'm quite partial to."

She pursed her lips. Of course _that_ was what he got out of the conversation. It's not like she could really be that surprised. He was incorrigible, after all.

She continued to stare at him, watching with inner satisfaction as the self-assured grin slowly fell from his face. Caroline moved toward the bathroom, shaking off his hand as it tried to snake its way around her ankle.

"Oh come on love. It's a good idea. We'd save on the gown and –"

Caroline grinned in triumph at the slight pleading in his voice. She grabbed a toothbrush from the cup holder on the sink and looked at her smiling reflection in the bathroom mirror. "Finish that sentence, Lorenzo, and you'll save on a lot more than the gown."

He was behind her then, arms encircling her waist. Enzo smiled at her in the mirror, his lips moving to kiss the arch of her neck. His mouth moved to her ear, eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. "You don't need a silly white frock to make you look gorgeous, love."

Caroline bit her lip, trying to stop the bright smile blossoming on her lips. Something inside her twisted at his words though and while she was happy, so unbelievably happy in his embrace, the smile did not reach her eyes. She felt loved, felt happy and protected and safe in his arms. Enzo had been a fixture in her life for such a long time now. He was the constant, the ever reliable friend turned lover turned fiancé that was always there to pick her up when she needed it most. He knew her better than anyone else and the subtle shift in her mood did not go unnoticed.

His smile faded slowly. She could see the understanding in his eyes and hated it. She hated that he _had _to understand anything at all. "Look, I know that this is hard for you and if you want to postpone –"

"No," Caroline shook her head adamantly, turning in his arms so that she could look him in the eye. Her chest pressed against his, the soft warm comfort of his naked skin against her own grounding her in reality. "I don't want to postpone the wedding again. I can't."

He stared at her for the longest time. "Are you sure?"

No. She wasn't.

"I don't want to go dress shopping without her. I don't want to do this without her but...I have to," tears formed in her eyes despite her resolute determination. You would think that with time it would become easier, that the pain would ease and the past would simply fade into the background. But it never did. Not really. "My mum's dead and there's nothing I can do to bring her back. So I have to do this without her whether I want to or not."

All little girls dreamt of that 'silly white frock'. They fantasised about all the ruffles and tulle, envisioned the way it would billow out at as they twirled and twirled and twirled until the world spun on its axis and they could twirl no more. Or at least, that was what she had done. She had dreamt of finding that silly white dress ever since she was a little girl and while the image in her head changed as she did, morphed and grew as the years went by, the presence of her mother never wavered. Liz Forbes was always there.

Except that she wouldn't be.

Caroline hated thinking of that day. It was so long ago but it only seemed like yesterday. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear the phone ringing in her mind. She could hear Elena's voice and Damon in the background crying. The sound of the sirens, the murmur of a dozen voices; Caroline wished she could forget that day and that phone call. Most of all, she wished that she had been there. Maybe, just maybe, if she had been then none of it would have happened.

It had been a drunk driver. Of all the things that could have happened, it had been something as simple as an idiot jumping behind the wheel after one too many celebratory drinks on game day.

She'd been in Spain with Stefan when the call came. They'd been celebrating their two year anniversary, eating out at some tiny restaurant by the seaside. She had shattered like glass at the news, broken into a thousand tiny pieces. Caroline had blamed Stefan for taking her away. She'd blamed Matt for serving the man more alcohol, Damon for not getting there in time to give her his blood. Caroline had hated them so ardently.

She'd hated herself more.

She had been so close to turning it off, to simply flipping the switch on her emotions. It would be so much easier to feel no pain. Caroline had never understood Elena's decision to turn it all off after Jeremy's death. She could never comprehend getting to that point. When her father had died she'd cried and screamed and felt as much pain as anyone else at the death of a loved one. Caroline had never once considered turning her emotions off. But with her mother, with Liz's death, it was different.

She had been _so_ close.

The funeral had been a blur. She could scarcely remember what was said. Caroline couldn't recall, to this day, her own words as she'd stood at the podium with Stefan by her side. Everyone's faces and condolences had all blurred into one hazy tangle of emotion, a single blur of mind-numbing pain.

After it had all been said and done, Caroline had told them all to go, to leave her alone; Damon and Elena, Bonnie and Matt, Tyler, Jeremy, even Enzo. She'd screamed at Stefan to leave her be. And he had –they all had. They'd left her to her grief, her solitude and the never-ending silence of her childhood home.

Caroline had been sitting on the front porch, unable to bring herself to actually go inside when the flowers came. The delivery boy had stumbled over his words, knowing exactly who she was and what the flowers were for, but she'd hardly cared. Caroline's eyes had been drawn to the bright sunflowers the moment the boy had pulled them from the van. She'd seen enough white lilies to last her a lifetime. She held a strange hatred for the flower, even now, after seeing so many line her mother's coffin.

Sunflowers had always been her mother's favourite.

It had been the handwriting on the card, the elegant loop of the C and the swiping dash of the E at the end of her name; she would know his handwriting anywhere. Her hands had shook as she'd opened the envelope.

_Your mother was an admirable woman. She was strong and brave. Just like you, sweetheart. _

_I am truly sorry. If you need me remember I am but a phone call away. _

_Forever yours,  
Klaus_

As she finished reading his note, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, Caroline noticed that there was something drawn on the back of the paper. She flipped it over and stared at the drawing, her mouth open in surprise.

She had let herself cry then.

Truly cry.

For such a long time, Caroline had remained stoic. She'd thought that if she kept moving, kept busy in the lead up to the funeral that the pain would simply go away, that it wouldn't be real. But it was and no amount of make believe could change that. It had been a simple drawing, a child's drawing, to make her realise that.

A bright green field stared back at her, a distorted and overly large sunflower poking up from the grass. The flower was larger than the sun and a rainbow seemed to flow illogically from the bright orange blob. It was the writing, the messy childish scrawl at the bottom of the paper that finally made her break.

_Feel better. _A shaky love heart followed the writing. _Eva_.

She had cried for such a long time that night, her hands clutching the childish drawing to her chest as if it was her salvation, her lifeline.

And it was, in a way.

Klaus' note, Eva's drawing; they'd stopped her from turning it all off. Without even knowing it, they'd saved her.

A week later, Caroline had broken things off with Stefan and bought herself a plane ticket to Rome. She would not stay in Mystic Falls. She refused to let the pain in. And so, she kept moving from place to place, country to country until finally after a couple of years of short flings here and there, her loneliness became too great. She'd called Enzo and he was there, with her, in London not two days later. They'd continued to travel as friends, skirting around the issue of their mutual attraction for well over a year until finally their resilience crumbled.

Nine years had passed since that day; twelve since her mother's death and twenty years since she'd last seen Niklaus Mikaelson's face.

Caroline was thirty-nine years-old but she felt so much older.

Enzo's voice finally brought her back, breaking her reverie. "Are you sure that's all there is?"

Caroline smiled up at him sadly. "What else could there be?"

She tried to push away the image of blue eyes and a dimpled smile as she looked up at her fiancé, her handing running through his short dark hair.

"Nothing," Enzo replied, his hand catching hers as it ran down his cheek.

His eyes said differently.

* * *

"I was talking to Bonnie and Jer the other day and they are all good to come up next weekend for a fitting," Elena prattled on, her dark brown boots clicking harshly against the cold cement pathway.

Caroline tried to listen to the brunette as they walked through the park, but her mind wandered back time and time again to her conversation with Enzo earlier that morning. There was something bothering her. She wasn't sure what it was exactly. There was something about the way he'd so easily accepted her word, accepted her lie.

Klaus' eyes, his smile; they'd haunted her for the last twenty years and she didn't know why.

She had moved on and lived her life, loved just as he had asked her to. Caroline loved Enzo. She was going to marry him. She was going to be Mrs. Lorenzo Nardini. She was going to be Caroline Nardini. That should have excited her.

Instead, it terrified her.

"Bonnie didn't seem too keen on leaving little Sheila with Ty but, well he is her godfather so Jer kind of won _that_ argument. Speaking of Tyler, are you and Enzo still fine with him being on the guest list? I know it's awkward and all but –" Elena continued talking, her words and her voice setting Caroline's already unsettled nerves on edge.

"It's not awkward, Elena," she snapped, cutting her friend off. "Tyler and I have been fine for the last twenty years."

The brunette stopped to look at her. Caroline immediately felt guilty for snapping at her friend. It wasn't Elena's fault. She was only trying to be a good maid of honour. The fact that Elena was more excited about the wedding than she was spoke volumes.

"Yeah but, I mean isn't a little weird having your ex at your wedding?" her friend persisted, offering a small smile.

Caroline frowned. "Matt's my ex too."

"Matt doesn't count."

Caroline opened her mouth, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue, but she bit down instead. She didn't want to argue. Not today. Not now. She was too tired. Instead, she opted for logic. "Damon is Enzo's best man and he's just as much my ex as Matt and _Stefan _are. Tyler is a non issue."

What was an issue was her lack of enthusiasm. Not that anybody noticed.

"Point taken," the brunette conceded with a smile. Elena looked around the park with narrowed brown eyes as a thought seemed to strike. "You know, I was thinking about the venue and the flowers and... "

Caroline tuned out the other vampire, her eyes following obediently where the brunette pointed. They skimmed over the trees in the park, the playing children on the grass and the morning joggers. She glanced at everything for no more than a second, paying barely any attention to her surroundings until she saw something, in the distance, that caught her attention.

Her eyes focused the figure leaning against a large oak tree at the end of the park. A man; tall and burly, his skin slightly tanned and calloused. It was the brown hair and tartan shirt, the familiar checks that sparked her memory.

She _knew_ him.

He was the werewolf from Rousseau's.

Jackson.

Caroline had thought he'd died. There was no way he could have survived that much blood loss. Even with vampire blood, he would not have healed. And yet, there he was. It had been twenty years since he'd stumbled into Rousseau's bloodied and on death's door.

He hadn't aged a day.

Caroline opened her mouth in surprise, her brow furrowed, and as his eyes caught hers and recognition sparked in their dark brown depths, she realised that her presence was just as much of a surprise to him as his was to her.

And then she saw her, tucked behind his intimidating form.

Blue eyes. Dimples.

Caroline swallowed hard. She knew those eyes. She'd know them anywhere. And that smile –

"Earth to Caroline?" Elena's hand waving in her face startled her. She blinked in surprise. The other vampire smiled at her curiously. "Where did you go just now?"

"Umm," Caroline struggled to find an excuse for her mental departure, but as her eyes found the blonde girl once again, she could find none. "I uh – sorry. I got distracted."

She was beautiful. Dark blonde hair, almost a light brown in colour, glimmered in the sunlight. Her eyes were his bright blue. Her smile soft and sweet and dimpled. There was recognition in the young woman's eyes as she looked at her, looked directly at her and waved.

Caroline felt hollow and full all at once.

_Eva. _

This was Eva. There was no way she could possibly be anyone else.

All Caroline could see was Klaus as she looked at the young woman.

"By what?" Elena asked, turning to look in the direction Caroline's eyes seemed fixated on. "Oh, him? He's_ nice_."

Caroline turned on her friend with wide eyes. Seriously!? "_Elena_!"

"What?!" her friend smiled cheekily, winding her arm through Caroline's. "You can appreciate, you just can't touch. Think of it as window shopping."

She internally flinched at the brunette's choice of words. Caroline saw Jackson stiffen and wondered briefly at his hearing capability. Wolves had heightened senses but even their hearing was not that good. She watched as Klaus' daughter elbowed the werewolf teasingly in the ribs.

Klaus' daughter.

A part of her still couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"You're incorrigible," Caroline offered half-heartedly, trying to steer Elena's attention away from the duo.

She had never told anyone about Eva. As far as Elena was concerned, Caroline had never been to New Orleans and as to Stefan and Enzo's understanding of her trip, well...she'd never told them why she'd left. It had seemed like a smart idea at the time. Even in her heartbreak, her anger and pain, Caroline had known that Eva was a weakness, a bargaining chip to some that could and would be used against Klaus. It was better that they did not know of her existence.

"I remember a time when you were too. Now you're just the boring _married_ one," Elena laughed, letting Caroline pull her down the path, the brown-haired stranger already forgotten.

Caroline chanced a look back at Eva and Jackson. She was worried at their presence in Atlanta and tentatively excited by what it could mean.

Why were they here, of all places? And what if they weren't alone? What if –

She didn't dare think it.

Caroline looked for the pair but they were gone.

"I'm not married yet," she replied softly, eyes still searching.

Her stomach fluttered at the thought.

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**I would love to hear your thoughts on this one. **

**Thank you for reading.**

**Till next time :)**


	2. Part Two

**It was so wonderful to read all your thoughts on this story. **

**On a side note, I am contemplating committing myself to a longer length story as a continuation of my most recent one-shot **Sweet Dreams**. **

**I'm intrigued by the collapse of the Other Side and how the departed can now interfere with the 'real world' so to speak. ****I make no promises as yet, but keep an eye out because that is very much a possibility right now. **

**Enough rambling. On with the story!**

**Happy reading :)**

* * *

She was beautiful. Mad as a bloody hatter sometimes and most definitely neurotic, the cute kind of neurotic not the crazy bunny boiler type, although she did like to munch on the furry little fellows every now and then, so maybe bunny muncher was more appropriate. Yes, his girl was beautiful. Crazy and neurotic and just a little bit mad, but beautiful nonetheless.

Even now.

Enzo watched her from his perch at their windowsill. He sat with his back pressed flat against the window frame, one leg dangling precariously outside the window. He straddled the ledge carelessly, ignoring the disapproving looks of their landlady who lived in the next building. Her apartment overlooked their small two bedroom flat. He waved sarcastically at the old biddy, smirking at the disgruntled look on her face as she wrenched her curtains closed. He'd just compel her later. He always did.

Caroline was in a mood. He couldn't quite pinpoint what type it was yet. There was stress cleaning and then there was s_tress cleaning. _He hoped it wasn't the latter. She'd been at it ever since she had come home from shopping with Elena. The apartment was spotless but still, Caroline continued to scrub and wash and polish nearly every surface she could lay her hands on. He'd tried talking to her, asking her how the hunt for 'the elusive dress' had gone. But all he'd gotten in response were a few short words mumbled under her breath.

Good was far too nondescript for a bride-to-be five weeks out from her wedding day, especially considering that she didn't have a dress or a venue organised, or a goddamn bloody cake. If the quarterback hadn't of done that online celebrants course, Enzo wondered if they'd even have that at this point. He was getting frustrated by her seeming lack of interest. It was her own wedding for Christ's sake and she couldn't even muster up enough enthusiasm to fake interest in the bloody thing!

Enzo knew that it was hard for her. He knew that she was hurting. Caroline was the type of woman that had dreamed of this day ever since she was a little girl. He knew that. He knew _her_. And he didn't want to sound harsh, he didn't want to shake her or push her, but the truth was that she wasn't the only girl in the world to walk down the aisle without her parents. It had been twelve years since Sheriff Forbes' death, nearly twenty-two since her father's. Enzo didn't want to sound unsympathetic but in his mind, Caroline had had twelve years to accept her mother's absence. That _had _to be long enough, didn't it?

But then what would he know of mothers? His had all but abandoned him when he was a young boy.

He could hardly say that he knew Liz Forbes well enough to mourn her death beyond the pain it caused her daughter. Hell, from what he'd heard she and Caroline had had a somewhat forced relationship ever since the sheriff and her husband had divorced. Enzo still had trouble believing the story behind that one. It took a certain kind of woman to remain upright and strong in the face of her husband leaving her for another man. It was that kind of inherent strength that had drawn him to Caroline.

They had been together for nine years now, two of which they'd been engaged for. He loved her, all of her, quirks and all, but she drove him bloody crazy with her indecisiveness. She always had.

A knock at the door drew his attention. Caroline didn't seem to notice as she continued to scrub away at the fireplace with a toothbrush. Enzo frowned at the slightly glazed look in her eyes. He wondered at the cause. He would call Elena later, much later, and try to get some sort of answer or explanation out of the brunette. Caroline's behaviour was worrying him.

There was another impatient rap at the front door.

He waited to see if Caroline would notice but when she didn't, he slid out from his seat at the windowsill and went to answer the door. If it was that bloody charity bloke again, the gangly redhead that persisted on trying to get him to save some endangered penguin or whatever the bloody hell it was, then he would actually eat him this time. It's not like his fiancée would notice. She was too busy cleaning to probably notice if a meteor fell from the sky and conveniently crushed their landlady.

Enzo blinked in surprise as he opened the door.

Definitely not the charity bloke then.

She was a petite little thing. Pretty in a sort of eclectic, earth child sort of way. Her mishmash of styles, the old school ripped jeans with the thigh high boots, the loose tie-dyed peasant shirt and frayed white scarf, was so singular that it took him by surprise. Nowadays it was all little black skirts and brightly coloured blazers that Enzo swore made his eyes bleed.

The strange woman was tiny but she certainly wasn't timid as she slowly looked him over, obvious in her perusal. Enzo raised an eyebrow in surprise. Not that he didn't mind being checked out by some random hippie chick at his front door, but he'd rather she do it when his fiancée wasn't in the next room cleaning away like the neurotic bunny muncher that she was.

_Neurotic bunny muncher_; Enzo grimaced. He really couldn't call her that. Caroline would quite literally kill him.

"I'm looking for a Caroline Forbes," the woman said, her accent a strangely broken mix of British and American. Her eyes were sharp as she tilted her head to look around his shoulder. Caroline was scrubbing furiously, oblivious to her audience. "If I could just speak with her a moment –"

"Sorry love," Enzo interrupted. "But as you can see, Caroline is a little preoccupied at the moment so ah – _no _earth child, or whoever the bloody hell you are, I don't really care to be honest, you can't talk to her."

Earth child simply stared at him, eerily calm. Normally when he sassed people, as Damon liked to call it, he got some sort of response. Sometimes anger and outrage, other times embarrassment but this chick had the best poker face he had ever seen. And it unnerved him.

She smiled sweetly, dimples showing. "Tell her it's Eva. I'm sure –"

"Eva?" Caroline was behind him in a second, the high-pitched break in her voice, the mild panic in her eyes, startling Enzo.

He looked at his fiancée, took in the startled reindeer look on her face, and then turned to eye the woman at the door. Who was she? And why did she seem to have such a profound impact on Caroline?

Enzo was decidedly unnerved and suspicious and just a little bit on edge, if he was being honest, at this woman's sudden appearance. There was something... _off _about this girl, this Eva. He couldn't quite figure out what she was. All his senses drew were a blank. She was nothing and everything all at once.

The two women seemed oblivious to his presence as they stared at one and other. Caroline seemed disbelieving and confused, scared even, while the other blonde held only a bright smile and, dare he say it, joy in her eyes.

Enzo opened his mouth to say something when Caroline cut him off, her eyes fixed on this Eva.

"Do you think you could give us a moment, Enzo?" she looked at him almost blankly, like she was moving on autopilot.

Enzo frowned. "A moment?"

Since when had Caroline needed a moment? They'd been together for nine years. Nothing was private between them. They had no secrets. Or at least, that's what he'd thought.

"I just want to speak with Eva privately for a moment. You don't mind, do you?"

Yeah. He did mind.

His instincts were screaming at him to slam the door in Eva's face, regardless of his fiancée's wrath. There was a gnawing sensation in his gut that told him this woman's presence would only cause trouble, that he had to get rid of her and get her as far away from Caroline as possible.

Instead, he acquiesced with a sharp nod at his fiancée and a glare at the other blonde before pushing his way through the door. He would leave and save himself an argument. But Caroline's idea of private and his idea didn't exactly have to mean the same thing.

Using his vampire speed, Enzo ran across to the next building and knocked impatiently on his landlady's apartment door. The moment the weathered old woman opened the door his eyes dilated.

"You are calm. You aren't scared. Go sit in the corner and... knit – or something. Just, don't make a sound. Okay?"

The woman nodded, her eyes blank and mind pliable. She went and did as he asked, picking up a set of knitting needles. She went through the motions, her hands moving methodically without any wool. Enzo rolled his eyes before quickly moving to the window that overlooked his and Caroline's apartment and discreetly pulled aside the curtains.

Caroline was still standing awkwardly at the door, wringing her hands nervously in front of her. Enzo used his vampire hearing to focus on their voices.

"I – um," Caroline stumbled over her words. "Did you, maybe, want to come in?"

Enzo frowned at the unusual amount of insecurity in Caroline's voice and body language. It was like she was preparing herself for rejection. Which was strange in and of itself.

Eva smiled and nodded, moving into the house. Caroline seemed to flounder awkwardly as she closed the front door, moving into the living room, eyes darting anywhere, everywhere, except for the smiling blonde's patient face.

"So..." Caroline drew the word out, her mouth puckered in a duckish expression. If Enzo wasn't so concerned he might have found it funny, adorable even. "I don't quite know why you're here or how you even know about me but –"

"How could I not know about _you_?" the woman interrupted with a light laugh, her dimpled smile bright and incredulous. Caroline was at a loss for words as Enzo watched her swallow thickly. "I grew up knowing your face. You are all he ever drew."

Enzo's eyes narrowed as Caroline coughed uncomfortably at the woman's words.

_Who_, exactly, _drew her_?

"That still doesn't explain why you're here, Eva."

"I wanted to meet you," the young blonde replied simply.

Caroline laughed harshly, wiping a hand over her face. "You wanted to meet me?" she asked incredulous. "_Why?!_"

For the first time, the other blonde looked uncertain. She seemed to struggle to find the right words to Caroline's question. "Is it wrong for me to want to know you, to actually meet you and talk to you, the woman that my father has been in love with my whole life?"

Wait. What?

Enzo blinked in confusion, eyebrows raised.

What the bloody hell was going on? Who was this woman?

Eva continued. "I grew up seeing your face in all of my father's drawings. I never really understood who you were, only that you were beautiful and you were important to him. When I was little I thought that maybe you were some princess from a far away exotic land that he'd once met, a long time ago. Maybe it was because I watched too many Disney movies about princesses and their knights in shining armour, but I'd actually created this fantasy in my head about the two of you. It was only when I was older that I actually saw the pain in my father's work, not some silly fairytale."

"If he's put you up to this –" Caroline started, swallowing thickly as a stray tear rolled down her cheek.

"He doesn't even know I'm here," the young blonde interrupted hurriedly. "I tricked my stepfather into thinking that I wanted to go to an art exhibition here in Atlanta. He kind of owed me, so..."

Enzo watched Caroline frown. "Jackson?"

"Yeah. It's kind of a long story that spans my entire twenty years of life. He and my mum are kind of...complicated," Eva laughed, shaking her head. "Who am I kidding? My whole family's complicated. We're the bloody Adam's Family meets the Brady Bunch. Just add in a few psychotic thousand year-old originals and you've probably got yourself a hit reality show in the making."

Caroline's laugh made his blood run cold.

Originals.

He should have known.

Enzo felt hollow as all the dots finally connected. Vampires couldn't procreate but then again, he supposed the slimy bastard wasn't exactly a vampire to begin with. Besides, who else could she possibly be talking about? Eva made sense now; she was everything and nothing all at once because she truly was unique, the only one born of her kind.

Klaus Mikaelson and Caroline Forbes.

Now that was a story of tentative love and heartbreak if there ever was one, Enzo thought bitterly. He'd never asked her why she'd left New Orleans. In hindsight, maybe he should have.

As Enzo continued to watch the two women talk, he felt a growing sense of loss. He loved Caroline. He wanted to marry her and spend the rest of existence with her, even if she was a bit of a mad hatter at times. But looking at her now, watching the way that she unconsciously smiled at the word 'father' and the young blonde's eager explanation, Enzo had to wonder if he had ever truly had a chance.

It was impossible to compete with the ghost of a memory, especially when that ghost was very much alive and almost certainly the love of your fiancée's undead life. Even if Caroline never admitted it, he knew how she felt about the hybrid.

He always had.

Maybe it was foolish to think that he would never pop up or become an issue in their life. Enzo had always assumed that the bastard had broken her heart by knocking around with another woman, or just simply buggering it up with the whole sadistic big bad routine Enzo had heard so much about. But now, looking at Eva, Enzo finally understood why Caroline had left.

He'd had a child. Caroline was nineteen when she'd run off to New Orleans on a whim. No one could begrudge her for not wanting to setup house and play stepmother to another woman's child.

"Eva," Caroline smiled lightly, moving to grab the younger woman's hands in her own. "I appreciate you coming here to see me. It's truly sweet of you but I – I guess I don't exactly understand what you want from me."

Eva frowned, wetting her lips nervously with a swipe of her tongue. She looked at Caroline so earnestly then. Enzo felt his gut clench in trepidation. He knew what she was going to say before she even said it.

"What I want from you? Isn't it obvious?" when Caroline didn't respond, the young blonde continued with a renewed fervour. "I want you to come back with me. To New Orleans. To my father."

Enzo waited, breath caught in his throat. Vampires didn't need to breathe. The action was redundant considering their bodies were, in fact, dead. And yet, most vampires continued to breathe as if they were human. It was a normalcy they indulged in to make them feel more human than they were, a subconscious action they instinctively carried out every day. Enzo couldn't breathe. He didn't need to. But the lack of oxygen in his chest felt like a heavy weight, a burning sensation of regret and anxiety as he waited for Caroline's response.

She stood there for the longest of times. He'd give anything to know what was running through that pretty little head of hers right about now.

Caroline swallowed hard, pulling her hands away the other blonde's. She took a step back. "I don't quite know what to say to that."

"Yes," Eva urged with a smile. "Say yes."

"I..." Caroline shook her head, an evident struggle in her eyes as she tried to find the right words. "I have a life here. I have people that I care about here and commitments that I cannot – that I will not break. It is sweet of you to come here Eva but I cannot go back there. I'm a different person now and –"

"That was the whole point though, wasn't it?" Eva interrupted, a decidedly determined pout on her lips. "You left so that you could both change and become better people."

"He told you about that?"

Eva nodded, moving to grab one of Caroline's hands. "I have lived my entire life knowing who and what my father is. I have heard the stories. Hell, I've seen the way people look at him, the way that they fear him. I've never understood it. My father has always simply been my father. He's my dad and yeah, he's temperamental but so am I and he's never, not once, been the monster that they all make him out to be."

"Eva –"

"No, let me finish. Please," the young woman sighed, eyes desperate. "You told him once that you would both destroy each other, that the both of you needed to change, to become better people if you had any chance of making it work. I love my father and all I want is his happiness. _You _are his happiness. Uncle Elijah showed me how he was when he was with you and –"

"You can't put that kind of pressure on me. I have a life here. I'm getting married in five weeks!" Caroline argued.

"Do you love him? Your fiancé?" Eva persisted.

Caroline's answer was immediate and defensive. "Of course I do."

Enzo smiled.

"And my father? Do you love him?"

His smile slowly faded as Caroline hesitated, the answer seemingly caught in her throat. "A part of me will always love Klaus."

Her admission made his stomach lurch.

"Can you truly marry one man when your heart still belongs to another?" Eva's question was beseechingly soft.

The truth behind her words, the simple honesty of the young woman's question made Enzo swallow thickly against the lump in his throat. It was such a simple yet loaded question. He didn't think he could be mad, not truly, at Caroline for loving the other man. A part of him would always, _always_ love Maggie.

Maggie was lost to him but Klaus – he was not lost to Caroline.

"Klaus is lucky to have you for daughter," his fiancée admitted, her voice scratchy and broken. Enzo could see the struggle in her face, the barely suppressed pain in her eyes. "But I cannot come with you. I'm sorry."

Klaus' daughter nodded in disappointment, eyes hardening slightly. She licked her lips and let go of Caroline's hand. "Well, if you change your mind Jackson and I will be at the airport in the morning. Our flight leaves at nine. There's a ticket with your name on it, if you want it."

"Thank you but no."

The young blonde sniffed, eyes darting about the room. "Jackson and I will wait. Just in case."

"It was lovely meeting you Eva, but I really think –"

"Don't worry. I'll be out of your hair in a minute. I just want to say one more thing," Caroline nodded and patiently waited for the young woman to continue. "My father does not love easily. He's magnificent at letting his own insecurities and personal demons ruin his belief and trust in other people. He believes in you though. He trusts you, trusts that you will come back to him like you promised. Please don't make him wait another twenty or forty years just because you're afraid. You both deserve to be happy_. Together_. "

Enzo moved away from the window. He didn't quite know what to think. His mind was a mess of words and expressions, truths that he had buried deep down for such a long time.

He'd always known that she wasn't his.

Caroline could never be his.

Not truly.

The only clear thought running through his head as he moved silently toward the knitting woman in the corner was one painfully ridiculous line from a play he'd read once.

_Love hath made thee a tame snake._

* * *

**Some of you have expressed an interest in knowing how I envision Eva. I have a link on my profile page for any of you that would like to know what she looks like (in my head, at least). **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. **

**Let me know what you think!**

**Till next time :)**


	3. Part Three

**Thank you all so much for taking the time to review this story. **

**Only one chapter to go after this (I couldn't fit everything into three chapters this time).**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

Caroline breathed hard against the ache in her chest. She tried to concentrate on breathing normally, on calming down the rapid beat of her heart, but it was near on impossible. It hurt. Her heart hurt. Meeting Eva, talking to her and hearing all she'd had to say; it had taken every ounce of her self control to remain upright, to stand firm against the torrent of emotions that wracked her now torn heart. She felt strangely broken. It made no sense for her to feel the way that she did. Caroline knew that she had made the right decision, the only decision there really was.

She couldn't just leave. It was not as simple as that. She had built a life for herself here in Atlanta. There was too much to walk away from, too much that she stood to lose if she ever did. Caroline felt anger and happiness swell inside her. The warmth she felt at knowing that Klaus was well and that he had, in fact, tried to be better was tempered by the knowledge that Eva had sought her out, that his daughter had not believed the farce that was his contentment.

Klaus Mikaelson's face had haunted her for nearly twenty years. She would never tell another living soul, not even her fiancé whose concern and worried frown often greeted her when she woke in the middle of the night, crying out and reaching for some intangible ghost. Blue eyes haunted her dreams and all she could think about, for those few short moments before reality set in, was that maybe one day she would see them again. His face was her curse.

He haunted her dreams.

Perhaps, she too haunted his.

Eva was smart and sweet and so utterly determined. She was exactly what Caroline had pictured her to be. Strong and beautiful; she saw Hayley in the sharp angle of her eyes and the high arch of her cheekbones but as Caroline had looked at her, truly looked at her, all she could really see was Klaus.

A part of her had hoped, almost foolishly that Eva had been in Atlanta with her father. She didn't know why that was a better alternative in her mind. Eva had been honest in plea, heartbreakingly so, and it had taken everything she'd had to turn her away.

Caroline wanted to say yes. She would always want to say yes. Klaus would always be there, in her mind, telling her to run free, to be unafraid and to love and live unashamedly in any way she desired. His voice had been the one to push her to travel, to dream higher. And she had.

She'd travelled. She'd lived. _Loved_.

And now, she had settled. For a time. Built a life with a man she loved and who she knew loved her in return, even if she sometimes imagined his brown eyes being blue. Caroline had responsibilities now, commitments that she could not break. No matter how badly she wanted to.

As she moved into the kitchen, rubbing a tired hand over her face, she heard the front door open. Dark veins under her eyes pulsed as she smelt the blood. Caroline whirled around, body instinctively tensed for attack. She stopped short at the sight before.

He smiled at her, that sharp malicious lopsided quirk that she knew hid some kind of pain. She hadn't seen him smile like that in years.

"What did you do?" she asked with hesitant fervour.

It was obvious what he had done. The question was as ridiculous as the uneven beat of her heart. She was scared to know and yet determined to find out the truth behind the rivulets of blood that painted his mouth red. He looked like some kind of monster, the villain of her childhood fairytales. Caroline had seen him kill. She had seen him enjoy it and relish in the thrill of the chase. She had never seen him look like this.

Enzo grinned darkly, his bloodstained teeth gleaming in the light.

"Nothing," he quirked an eyebrow at her and pursed his lips, sauntering with a strange lilt in his step further into their apartment. "Much."

"Enzo –" she'd started to argue but her words were cut short as he plopped himself into a white armchair and interrupted her.

"Fine. You got me," he smiled up at her, feet moving to rest on the coffee table, bloodied fingers staining the white material of the chair he sat in. Caroline felt her hackles rise. "No need to bring out the chains and whips gorgeous, I'll confess to it all."

She gritted her teeth, trying to ignore his obvious attempt to bait her. He knew she hated feet on the coffee table. It was bad manners. And that armchair; it had cost her nearly two thousand dollars! She'd been in love with the antique chair the moment she'd laid eyes on it and now it was ruined.

"Why are you acting like this?" Caroline asked with a harsh softness.

She was tired. Emotionally exhausted. Her day had been one of tumultuous moments. Shopping with Elena, seeing Jackson and Eva in the park, Eva coming to her house; Caroline did not have the patience to deal with this, whatever this was. If Enzo had chosen this moment to have some sort of midlife vampire crisis then she would literally scream. Probably tear her hair out too.

"Act like what? I'm not acting, Blondie." Caroline winced at the nickname. He hadn't called her that in nearly twenty years. "This is all me. Take it or leave it?"

"Whose blood is that?"

"Guess?" he smiled, a malicious glint in his eye as he leaned forward on his elbows. His feet fell from the coffee table as she forcefully pushed them off with her hand. She would not play this game. "No. Not even gonna have a stab at it. Alright then, here's a clue; I got a little peckish during the show."

Caroline blinked hard, following the tilt of his head as he looked toward the open window. Her eyes fell on Mrs Merriweather's apartment in the next building. Bile rose in her throat. She moved toward the window with blinding speed, hands gripping the frame tightly as her eyes took in the bloodied scene. The old woman lay propped against the window, her face pressed against the glass. Caroline could see where he'd ripped into her throat.

"You _killed_ Mrs Merriweather?!" there was disbelief in her voice as tears clouded her vision.

_I got a little peckish during the show._

Caroline expelled a shaky breath, all the puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place.

"Oh don't sound so upset love. You hated the old bird."

She rounded on him, eyes wide in unrestrained anger. Her voice was incredulous. "You can't just go around killing people Enzo! I thought we went through this –"

"Maybe I need a refresher course," the sarcastic jibe destroyed any restraint she'd had left.

"You're unbelievable," Caroline spat, shaking her head at the pretentious look of pride on his face. Of course he took that as a compliment. "So you decided that you couldn't trust me and had to what, spy on me from our landlady's apartment? And when you didn't like what you heard you just decided, I don't know, to kill her? Is that it?"

"More or less," he replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"I can't believe you. After everything that we have been through you just act out like this and –"

Enzo rose sharply from the chair, eyes narrowed. "Acting out, am I? Let me share with you a little pearl of wisdom, shall I? We're vampires love. We're predators, so naturally _we kill_."

Caroline instinctively took at step back at harshness in his voice. She looked at him, stared for what seemed a lifetime, and saw the hidden pain beneath the facade. He _was_ acting out. She didn't care what he said about their nature and their instinct to kill. There was always a choice. He had not killed with intent for years. He had chosen to be the man she knew he could be. And now, he was back at the start, back to being the broken soul that breathed vengeance.

She had hurt him. Caroline knew that now. Her conversation with Eva, while it had been emotionally wrecking for her, Enzo had heard it too. She had hurt him, unintentionally of course, but still – there was a pain in his eyes, an insecurity she had not seen in such a long, long time.

"I understand that you're upset and that there are a few things I probably should have told you, Eva being one of them, but you just can't go around killing people Enzo. You're better than this," her voice was soft as she moved toward him, wary of the look in his eyes.

He would not hurt her, Caroline knew that, but she still approached him with caution. Enzo stood stoic as her hands slowly reached for his face. She forced him to look at her.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about Eva," she continued. "The truth is that despite everything that happened, despite being lied to and getting my heart broken all those years ago, I wanted to protect her. She was innocent of any fault, just a little baby whose father happened to have _way_ too many enemies that could use her as leverage against him."

"You could have told me," his broken whisper tore at her heart. She could see the storm in his eyes slowly fading. "You could have trusted me. I'm not Damon."

Caroline closed her eyes in pain. No. He wasn't Damon. He was a far better man than Damon would ever be. And she knew, as she had always known, that Enzo would never hurt a child. He would have never used Eva against Klaus as she'd always feared. Why would he? He'd never had a reason to and yet, still she had kept Eva a secret. She didn't know why. Caroline had always told Enzo everything. She'd _always_ been honest and open with him about everything.

Except Klaus and the real reason she'd left New Orleans.

"Like you trusted me, just now?" she countered, knowing that she was deflecting the conversation away from the shaky waters they were swimming dangerously close to. "You heard what I said to her. I'm not going back to New Orleans. I chose you and for some reason you think killing our landlady is –"

"You are."

Caroline blinked in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"You_are_ going back to New Orleans."

His hands moved to cup her own. She felt the warm strength of his fingers wrap around her palms, bringing her hands away from his face. She looked up at him, confused and bewildered, uncomprehending of just what it was he was saying.

"No, I'm not. Enzo –"

"Yes. You are," he interrupted her with a sad smile. "I'm a selfish man Caroline. If I have you then I want all of you."

She didn't understand.

"You have all of me. I love you," she argued, shaking her head in confusion, a perplexed frown on her lips. Why was he saying this? Surely he didn't mean it. "I'm marrying you for Christ's sake. I –"

"I don't have all of you," Enzo barked with a sharp laugh, turning on his heel. He paced in front of the couch, hands running through his hair, along his face, clenching and unclenching in barely restrained anger. "How can I have all of you when your heart still belongs to _him_?"

Caroline shook her head, mouth opening and closing, a retort on the tip of her tongue. She had no words, nothing she could say to him. Any form of denial would be a lie. She did love Klaus; a part of her always would. She'd known that the moment she'd left him alone in the woods that day. It had been cruel of her to leave the way she had, but Caroline knew that if she had looked into his eyes then she would have never found the strength to actually leave that day.

Enzo smiled sadly, the truth of her silence all he needed. He knew what her answer would have been had she found the words anyway. "I want all of it, not a sliver, not half or three quarters. I want your whole heart, Caroline, impossible as that may seem. I will not share."

It would be unfair of her to ask him to.

Enzo loved her, he'd been her friend, her lover, her companion for the better part of her vampire life. He'd always been there. She knew it was selfish of her to not want to chose, to not want to give him up. Because that was what this was. If she chose Klaus, she would be giving Enzo up. She didn't think she could bear losing his friendship, not after all this time.

"So yes, you are bloody well going to New Orleans if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming myself," he continued, moving to grab her shoulders. She shook her head resolutely, trying to ignore the fervour in his voice. "You're afraid, sweetheart. Afraid to be happy. You don't want to marry me –"

"Yes, I do," she argued weakly.

"No, you really don't. But that's okay. I'll be okay," his words were soft, comforting.

They broke her. Burying her head into his chest, heedless of the blood that soaked the front of his shirt, Caroline finally let herself cry. The warm comfort of his arms crushed her. He clung to her, chin resting atop her head, and she cried harder.

"Caroline, sweetheart it's okay," he whispered soothingly. "We were friends long before we were ever lovers. I want you to be happy, even if that happiness feels like a kick to the bloody balls."

She laughed and leaned back to look at him in the eye. He was such a beautiful man. Good, no matter what Damon or anyone else said. Enzo was a good man, misguided sometimes, but good underneath it all. Even now, covered in Mrs Merriweather's blood as he was, all Caroline could see was the beautifully broken kindred spirit she'd been drawn to all those years ago.

She didn't care what Damon said about bad boys and British accents being her 'thing'. Caroline had been drawn to Enzo because of who he was, not who he reminded her of, even if the two were remarkably similar.

They both loved her. And they'd both let her go.

Enzo was letting her go, he was giving her an out because he knew, just as she did, that in the end she would have found her way back to New Orleans. She'd left her heart there, all those years ago. There was never going to be any other ending.

It didn't matter all that she stood to lose. Elena and Damon, Bonnie and Matt. Tyler. The only two people she could truly count on was the man standing before her, breaking his own heart so that she could be happy, and Stefan whose heart she had trampled all those years ago but who had, somehow, managed to remain her best friend in spite of it all.

She would lose everything and nothing because what she stood to gain was so much more.

"Come on," Enzo took her hand and interlocked their fingers, thumb gently brushing the small diamond ring he'd given her only two years ago. "I'll help you pack."

Klaus Mikaelson was the beautiful curse that made her want more.

And she was finally ready.

* * *

She glanced down at her watch and grimaced.

"She's not coming," the gruff voice behind her complained.

Eva turned around with a sharp glare. "Of course she's coming."

Jackson raised an eyebrow at the edge in her voice but her expression did not change. She knew he wanted to say something, to reprimand her or whatever. The displeasure was clear in his eyes. It wasn't like she cared. He'd been trying to play 'father' for far too long. He was not her father. And besides, she was twenty years-old. What could he really do? Tell her mother she'd brought him along on the feigned pretence of step-daddy/ daughter bonding over artwork he really couldn't care less about. Jackson wouldn't know the difference between a Monet and a finger painting done by some hobo on the street.

She tolerated the man because her mother loved him, for whatever reason. He was loyal, brutish but loyal. And then, of course, there was Cooper. He was a good father to her little half-brother, even if he was a pain in the arse most of the time.

"The plane's boarding."

She fixed the man with another withering glare.

Eva didn't care if she had to wait all day. She would compel the whole bloody cabin crew if she had to, the entire airport if it was necessary. The plane would leave when she was ready for it to leave. And she would be ready when, and only when, the love of her father's goddamn existence decided to show up.

Because she _was_ coming. Caroline Forbes would be here.

She had to be.

Eva hadn't considered the alternative. In her mind, there was no alternative. Of everything she had seen, of everything she had been told and shown about the woman's relationship with her father, Eva was certain of one thing; Caroline's love for her father was without question. She'd been young, younger than Eva was now, and she understood why the woman had run. Her father had been a total dickhead. He had lied to the love of his life and been repenting for it ever since.

Everything she'd said to Caroline had been true. She'd grown up knowing the woman's face. And now that she was older, no longer a child whose mind was filled with fairytales, she was determined to fix what her father had broken.

Klaus Mikaelson was a lonely man. He was forever surrounded by people. His family tried to break through the barrier he'd built around his heart. She'd seen the desperate lengths her Aunt Bekah went to and the devout loyalty her Uncle Elijah held for his redemption. Even her mother had tried to get through to him, tried to show some level of camaraderie with the hybrid. They were, after all, the same now.

He had only ever let her in. Her and Caroline.

Her father deserved happiness. He deserved to be loved.

Caroline would come.

"We got to go kiddo," Jackson's hand on her shoulder felt warm and comforting. She hated it, hated that he knew to comfort her. "The plane's about to leave."

Like her, Jackson was a hybrid. He'd been sired by her blood when she'd been no more than five weeks old. Her mother had used no more than a pinprick of her young blood to turn him and while he'd been furious, there was little that he could do to change his fate. Eva knew that if she commanded him to stay that he would. Not because he was bound to her, he'd broken the sirebond years ago. No, Jackson would stay because he was her stepfather and like it or not, he cared about her. They were all one big twisted hybrid family, not necessarily happy but loyal to a fault.

"Eva," his hand squeezed her shoulder, tugging gently, trying to move her toward the dwindling line of passengers.

She was so close to giving up, so close to actually believing that she had been wrong, when finally she saw her.

Eva smiled brilliantly at her stepfather and shrugged out of his grip, moving toward the blonde as she weaved through the crowd of people. Eva blinked in surprise at the dark-haired man following behind her and stopped short. His answering smirk left her quite puzzled and while her brain registered the carry-on luggage he had in his hand, a soft pink tote bag that most certainly did not belong to him, Eva couldn't quite comprehend his presence.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," the blonde woman breathed out in a rush. "I tried to tell him not to take the fifth exit but of course he took the fifth exit."

Eva looked at Caroline, who smiled nervously up at the man, her fiancé if Eva recalled correctly. Which, in and of itself, had been a major complication to her plan but not an insurmountable one.

Caroline took the bag from Enzo. That was his name. Maybe. Eva couldn't quite remember. He hadn't seemed important at the time. It appeared as though she'd misjudged his influence, his significance to the blonde woman. Eva didn't think her father would take too kindly to the competition.

The man looked at her, his eyes hard. "If he hurts her, I'll kill him."

Jackson stiffened behind her at the threat. She could feel her own ire rise. "You can try."

The tense silence was broken only by the voice over the P.A system announcing the last boarding call. Caroline hovered anxiously between the two of them.

"Alright you two, that's quite enough," she reprimanded them with a soft laugh, moving to lay a hand on the man's chest. Caroline forced him to look at her. "I'll call you when I land."

He nodded, eyes moving to level Eva with one last look. His eyes held the promise of vengeance and she had the distinct impression that he would follow through on his threat if, for whatever reason, her father broke Caroline's heart a second time.

Eva prayed her father wouldn't be an idiot.

If he buggered up this time, she might just kill him herself.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading!**

**I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Till next time :)**


	4. Part Four

**And so this series comes to an end. For now...**

**I may be persuaded to write a sort of epilogue piece later on down the track. But, as it stands now, I'm quite happy with the series as a whole and want to look at potentially starting something new. **

**I am seriously considering a continuation of **Sweet Dreams **now, so much so that I have already planned eighteen chapters of what I envision the story to be. Now I just have to find the time to write it. **

**I want to say a big thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing this series. It has truly been a pleasure. **

**I hope you enjoy this, the last chapter, of **Heartlines**.**

* * *

Caroline fidgeted restlessly, her thumb methodically spinning the daylight ring on her forefinger in a continuous twirl. The plane ride had been fine, easy even; all she'd had to do was sit in her seat and flip through the in-flight magazine and pretend she gave a damn about the articles inside. She could bury her head in its pages and try to ignore Eva's blatant curiosity. The girl's stepfather obviously didn't give a damn as he'd all but grunted, crossed his arms and closed his eyes for the duration of the flight. The fact that he was a hybrid, the fact that Eva's blood had turned him into a hybrid was more than a little disconcerting. Klaus obviously hadn't used the ability to his advantage, which was strange in and of itself, because from what she could gather only Hayley and Jackson had ever been turned. Caroline wondered if maybe he really had changed.

"What is your favourite food?" Eva asked, her blue eyes moving off the road to stare curiously at Caroline's face.

Caroline sighed internally, smiling weakly at the blonde. Yes, it had been so much easier to ignore the girl's curiosity on the plane. In a car, not so much.

"Eyes on the road," Jackson grumbled from the back seat. She could see in the rear-view mirror the unease in his eyes and the tension in his shoulders as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Eva waved his concern off. "Oh it's fine. I crashed like one time. I don't know what you're all so worried about, I'm practically indestructible," the carefree ease with which she spoke, the careless flourish of her hands made Caroline suddenly very uncomfortable. "So – favourite food?"

"Uh," she too shifted uncomfortably then, eyeing the road and then Eva's expectant face. Hoping that the blonde hybrid's attention would revert back to the stream of traffic on the road, Caroline tentatively offered her answer. "Italian?"

The woman smiled, eyes thankfully turning back to the road. "Wonderful. I'll get Uncle 'Lijah to order some for lunch when we arrive."

Caroline opened her mouth to protest, to say that the gesture really wasn't necessary, but the young woman's oblivious smile kept her quiet. She could see the soft excitement in the girl as she unknowingly bounced in the driver's seat the closer they got to the compound. It was sweet really to see how much her presence seemed to offer some sort of hopeful excitement to the girl. Eva genuinely cared about her father's happiness, Caroline could see that and it warmed her heart to know that he hadn't been alone all these years – not really; he'd had Eva in his corner the whole time.

Caroline watched the city as it passed by. It hadn't really changed at all. And, as her eyes landed on a familiar sign over a very familiar bar she felt her heart constrict painfully.

She was doing this. She was actually here in New Orleans.

Again.

Only this time she felt ready, more secure and less uncertain. Time had changed her, helped her to grow as a person and now, now she was _finally_ ready. Caroline only hoped that he was too.

Enzo had given her a chance, as heartbreaking as it was, to finally do what she desired, to finally accept what she'd buried away so long ago. Caroline regretted nothing. She did not regret leaving or promising that she'd return. She would not apologise for seeing Stefan or dating Enzo for nearly a decade, for accepting his proposal and for nearly becoming his bride. She regretted nothing because, while she may have been afraid, everything she had done had led her here. Caroline had grown as a person and, while she may not have been perfect, she was who she needed to be in order to make this work.

No longer a naive nineteen year-old girl new to college and vampirism and life in general; now she was thirty-nine, a woman who'd loved, lived and travelled who now had, she hoped, enough experience to handle a relationship with a man who'd lived multiple lives, a man whose age was incomprehensible. He'd seen and done just about everything. And while his murderous tendencies were legendary, Caroline believed that she was now in a position to handle life by his side.

If Elena and Damon chose to hate her, then so be it. If Bonnie stopped her from seeing little Sheila, her goddaughter, then Caroline would be genuinely sad but not broken. If Matt disowned her as his friend, then maybe he wasn't a true friend to begin with. Tyler would react badly and so what, she hadn't seen her ex-love in nearly three years. Stefan would support her. Enzo supported her. That was all she needed.

As Eva pulled the car to a stop, Caroline swallowed uneasily.

Just because she was sure didn't mean that she wasn't nervous. She had not seen his face in over twenty years. What if he'd changed his mind? What if he didn't want her anymore?

Unconscious of her actions, Caroline nervously patted down her hair and straightened the line of her light blue blouse as she stepped out of the car. She chose to ignore Eva's wry smile, the slight curve of which reminded her so much of the man that had stolen her heart all those years ago.

This was it. She was here.

Caroline breathed deeply and closed her eyes.

She was calm. She was centred. She was ready.

A sudden voice startled her. "I was unaware we would be entertaining a guest this evening."

"_Elijah_," Caroline breathed out, unsteady and suddenly unsure.

She'd always been under the impression that the older original had never really cared for her or her presence in New Orleans. Perhaps it was because he had never really taken the time to get to know her, to get to know who she was as a person, her morals and beliefs of which she'd been told were so similar to his own. He'd always been standoffish or simply gone; always in the Bayou, which at the time had puzzled her but now made so much more sense.

A warm smile crossed his face as he tipped his head lightly, the gentlemanly gesture throwing her off guard. "It is a pleasure to see you again Miss Forbes. I trust my niece had a role in all this."

The teasing lilt in his voice and the coy look shared between Eva and her uncle was not lost on Caroline.

"As have you, it would seem."

Elijah laughed lightly, a charming smile on his lips. "I forget your powers of perception are without equal. Niklaus has always spoken so highly of you that I confess, I fear my behaviour to you the last time we met was quite reprehensible. I did not know the depth of my brother's affections and mistook love for obsession. My atonement, if you were, is long overdue. "

His confession rattled her. And yet, it was a comfort to know that he was sorry, that he hadn't simply disliked her. Elijah had underappreciated her importance to Klaus; he'd seen a distraction where there was none. She could forgive that.

"And this is, what, your idea of making amends?" she asked with a wry smile, her eyebrow arched as she gestured to herself and her bags. Jackson diligently and silently unloaded the luggage from the back of the car, purposefully ignoring Elijah's momentary stare.

"No," Eva interrupted. She leaned against the silver volvo with a self-satisfied smirk that was all Hayley. "It's a gift."

A gift?

Caroline frowned and opened her mouth to ask the obvious when she was interrupted by the sound of the car's boot slamming shut. Jackson's gruff voice sounded from behind her. "Come on kiddo. Help me move the bags inside."

Eva scowled at her step-father's command but obediently followed, swinging a rather heavy case over her shoulder as though it weighed no more than a sheet of paper. Caroline's frown deepened and as she went to move forward, to query the girl's comment, when Elijah's warm hand rested lightly on her shoulder and held her in place.

"My niece can be quite obstinate when she wants to be. If she has an idea in her head it is futile to even attempt to argue with her. A lesson we have all learned the hard way," Elijah's words puzzled her; they made little sense in context of the question she had asked earlier. As if sensing her confusion, the older original continued, looping his arm through hers. "Eva has wanted to meet you for a very long time, Miss Forbes."

"Caroline. Please."

Elijah smiled, guiding her toward the compound. "She has always been a sweet child. Temperamental, much like Niklaus, but sweet nonetheless. Her heart is large and generous, as is her love for her father and her want for his happiness."

"Convincing me to come back was –"

"A daughter's gift to her father."

Caroline tilted her head, eyes alight in comprehension. "And a brother's gift of atonement. You helped her find me."

The original nodded slightly, drawing her further into the old building's walls. It was as if time had stood still and everything remained unchanged, untouched within the Mikaelson family home. She felt anxious and excited, the warm bubble of anticipation in her abdomen simmering away.

He was nearby. She could feel it.

"Come. Let me take you to him."

Caroline smiled brightly.

* * *

_She walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that's best of dark and bright  
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;  
Thus mellowed to that tender light  
Which heaven to gaudy day denies..._

Klaus had never been one to favour the written word. He'd always been more of a dynamic soul whose interests lay in more lively pursuits. He was not his brother. Elijah had always been a man of words, a connoisseur of culture; indeed, it was with ones words, ones understanding of the artistry behind such rousing speeches, such tumultuous historical texts that spoke of love and loss and war that a man could come to truly understand the world he lived in and to use that knowledge, to use that power, to better himself and his family.

Klaus was more basic in pursuit. He read like any cultured man, bore an interest in certain texts, but he was not Elijah. Nor was he Kol. Klaus could be still, he could stand for hours on end with naught but a paintbrush, or on occasion a classic novel to entertain him. Kol had never been able to sit still long enough to appreciate the beauty of solitude. Always moving, always seeking mischief and company. Rebekah was different again. Finn and Henrick had never had the chance to learn beyond their paltry beginnings, to appreciate the beauty of time. He'd stuck one in a box for centuries and the other...

He didn't like to think of the past. It hurt more than he'd dare say. But as he stood back, wet paintbrush in hand, and stared at his latest creation, so similar, so hauntingly familiar to all the rest, all Klaus could think about was the past and Lord Byron's words.

No, he'd never been one to mull over the meaning behind written works. There was a tempestuous soul to Shakespeare's words. A sweet sadness to dear old Slyvia's self-deprecating poems. And yet, it was Lord Byron's poem, his words that drew images of sweet blonde curls and sad blue eyes to the forefront of his mind.

_She Walks in Beauty_.

He had never understood why, to this day, the poem had been entrenched in his mind for the last twenty years.

But then, he did know.

Of course he knew.

He wondered sometimes, almost dangerously, what she was doing.

Was she well? Was she safe? Happy? Did she think of him as he did her? Were her dreams a collage of colour and sound, the happier moments of their time together? Would she ever come back?

Klaus knew that someday he would see her again. He was resolute in his belief that one day, one beautiful glorious day she would walk back into his arms. Until that day came he would continue to paint her likeness with such careful dedication, never truly capturing the light of her eyes, the beauty of her smile or the sweet curl of her hair as it swayed in the wind. He would paint, a man resolute, a sentry waiting for his post to finally end.

A soft knock at his bedroom door thundered behind him in the silence. He continued to stare at the blue eyes he'd tried so hard to replicate but always, in his mind, just fell short of capturing. The door softly clicked open behind him.

It was most likely Elijah.

"In case you haven't noticed brother, I am somewhat preoccupied," lifting the brush, Klaus fanned out the bristles with his thumb and glided the soft yellow paint onto canvas. "Leave. Now."

A small silence followed.

"Good thing I'm not your brother then," Klaus inhaled sharply and turned on his heel. A wicked smile greeted him. "Should I leave a note on my way out? How about: Dear Klaus, came to New Orleans but you were unfortunately _very _busy. Will pop by later. Love, Caroline. How does that sound?"

The gentle curve of her mouth as it tilted in what he could only describe as the most beautiful smile, the most evanescent softness, he had ever seen stilled his chaotic mind. Her smile bore mischief and laughter. It was soft and fleeting like the gentle breeze on a hot summer's day. The lightness of her hair, the golden spun curls that framed her face; she was all that's best of dark and bright. She walked in beauty as an angel, merciful yet dark in nature; a vampire, a young soul sent to tame the beast.

He'd always thought that she was something else, something untouchable. He had walked the earth for such a long, long time. He'd seen empires rise and fall like the tide, watched as countries tore each other to shreds, killing their way through thousands, bathed in the blood of innocent lives. Humans were just as vicious as he was, just as capable of committing unspeakable acts of cruelty, of evil.

Just as capable of redemption.

He was no different, he never had been.

She'd made him see that, she who stood before him with the promise of hope in her eyes and laughter in her smile. A dream, a spectre sent to haunt him. She was something else, she had to be. No other had ever held his heart, had ever created such a longing within him for home.

He was bad, but he'd tried to be better.

For _her. _

He had tried so hard, thinking before he took action, actually stopping to consider the alternative, the less impulsive route. He did it for Eva. He did it for _her._

Klaus had waited for twenty years, surrounded and yet so utterly alone. Only his daughter, his selfishly selfless, stubborn, wishfully hopeful, naively wise daughter had ever been able to chip away at the wall he'd built around his heart; a wall that had crumbled when she'd left, a wall that he'd built higher as the years ticked by. Eva was a dichotomy, opposite in every way, contradictive of her own self.

Uniquely singular.

Just like Caroline.

_Caroline_.

Klaus slowly set the paintbrush in his hand to the side, eyes never leaving the blonde in front of him.

She was real, wasn't she?

His mind had not gone so far as to conjure such a cruel joke on his behalf.

"No good?" Caroline pursed her lips, her gloriously supple lips. He could remember their taste. He'd craved them, craved her, for near on two decades. "You're right. Needs a little work. Maybe I should –"

Klaus moved on instinct, his body reacting where his mind could not. He moved toward her so fast, so blindingly fast, that when he was upon her, his hands tentatively wrapping around her shoulders, his eyes drinking her in, she gasped in surprise.

Perfection.

She was his perfection.

Beautifully flawed, stunningly wild; the beauty that haunted his mind, the ghost of his greatest longing here and alive, real and in his arms. He could scarcely comprehend the irony of her arrival. He had been thinking of her not two seconds before, picturing the sweet moment of her return, when she'd waltzed through the door.

She was here.

For how long, he did not know.

He didn't care. She was _here. _

As Caroline opened her mouth, words of playful banter on the tip of her tongue, Klaus knew that he couldn't bare it, couldn't bare the masked anxiety in her eyes. He moved before he could think twice, capturing her lips with his own.

They had time enough to talk.

For now, it was her lips he craved, the sweet addiction of her touch, the smell of her hair.

Caroline consumed his senses.

He revelled in the beautiful abyss, mind blank and unburdened.

In this moment, she was his and he was hers. The last twenty years flew by as though they were nothing, no more than a minute in time, as they stood there.

He was simply Klaus. Not the king, not a father, not a murderer or the original hybrid; he was _just Klaus_. A man with the woman of his dreams in his arms, _finally, _after so long_._

He felt the smile on her lips, her hand on his cheek. He didn't dare open his eyes in case the beautiful spectre in his arms dissolved into the shadows. He didn't dare close his eyes in case she did. As he pulled back slightly, his lips gently ghosting across hers Klaus found the will to open his eyes. Two beautiful blue orbs stared back at him, soft and sweet and _real_.

"Hello to you too," her voice teased him sweetly.

He breathed out harshly, leaning back, hands never leaving her face. Somehow they'd managed to find their way into her hair, tangled in gold so firmly he wondered briefly if in his haste, his need to hold her, to be close to her, he had hurt her at all.

"_Caroline_."

She smiled brilliantly at him, her small hands coming to rest over his, gently pulling them from her face and her hair, clasping them tightly in the small space between them. Her touch was like fire.

"I'm here," she breathed out softly, reassuringly.

His reply was hesitant, disbelieving, curious, a question masked as a statement. "You're here."

"I missed you."

Could it be? Could he dare to hope that she had returned, that she meant to stay with him?

Life and love had been nothing but cruel mistresses. His hope was hesitant, small and wavering.

"And I you, sweetheart," Klaus replied, eyes dancing across her face. If she did leave, he was determined to memorise her every feature, her every freckle. He would know the lines of her face better than he did his own. He would capture her beauty for all eternity. If he could not have her, then _that_ would be his consolation. "More than you could possibly know."

"Oh, I have an idea," her head tilted to the left as she leaned around him, eyes drawn to the forgotten painting.

A very rare blush crept up his neck as she surveyed the portrait. He had never been self-conscious of his art, his style was his own and he'd always been comfortable with that, self-assured in his abilities as an artist. But as she continued to stare at her portrait, eyes raking over the curve of her smile, her hair, the blush he'd tried so hard to capture on her cheeks, he wondered if she liked it.

He hoped that she did.

"That and a little birdy may have dropped a hint or two," she offered after a moment, gaze returning back to his. Blue warmth surrounded him as he stared into her eyes, their honesty, their sincerity and openness taking him by surprise. She answered his unspoken question, the confusion in the lines of his face revealing his uncertainty at her words. "Eva."

Klaus started at the sound of his daughter's name on her lips. "Eva?"

Caroline nodded, a hand coming to rest on the side of his face. "She's beautiful, Klaus. Really."

_Eva. _

His Eva.

She'd found her.

For him.

Klaus felt his heart constrict tightly at the thought, worry creeping into his eyes.

Was Caroline here because she wanted to be?

Was she here for him of her own accord?

Eva was his daughter in almost every way possible. She was not above compulsion to get what she wanted, even if she had a proverbial heart of gold.

"And _persuasive_," Caroline continued with a laugh. "Daddy's little girl, I think?"

"Love –"

She stopped him, her finger atop his lips, understanding in her eyes.

"I'm here for me, Klaus," she spoke quietly, honestly. "_Me. _No one else."

Was she? Truly. Could he dare hope that?

"I'm not here because Eva twisted my arm. I'm here because I want to be," Caroline continued, removing her hand from his face. "I'm not going to lie to you and say that when she first showed up at my door, begging me to leave with her, to come back to you and New Orleans that my first reaction was to immediately say yes. I told her no."

Klaus bit the inside of his cheek, jaw clenched as he tried, tried so desperately to let her have her say. Her words cut at him though, a sweet torture. His daughter had found her. His ever curious, ever hopeful Eva had found her _for him. _

And Caroline had said no.

He wondered at her change of heart.

He must have spoken his concern aloud as a soft, sad smile blossomed on her face. It was tender, saccharine; he could almost taste the memory on her lips.

Caroline moved further into the room, coming to stand before the unfinished painting. He watched her, watched the way she tilted her head as she surveyed the painting once more. "Someone...a good friend of mine showed me the truth."

A good friend whose memory bore a tender longing, a sad story; he wondered who dared draw such emotion from her, who dared chip away at her veneer of control, her beautiful composure.

Jealously bubbled in his chest.

"I was afraid. Afraid of losing everything," she confessed sadly, turning to look at him. Such a sad picture she painted; strong yet weak, bold yet hesitant. "I couldn't see what I had to gain. You told me once not to be afraid, to not let fear hold me back. So I'm not. I'm here because I want to be. I'm here because I choose you."

_I choose you_.

Such pretty words.

They held no meaning and yet, they were everything – all he had ever wanted to hear.

He couldn't let himself believe.

He wanted to, so desperately. He trusted her, trusted in her love and his, trusted that in the end there would always be something holding her back, drawing her back to the life she'd left behind. Be it the doppelganger or the Ripper, one way or another her loyalty to them would shine through.

"I won't let you leave again," he challenged, threatened even, with some hope that he would scare her. If she fled now, she would save them both a lot of heartache in the end.

"I know. I'm counting on that."

"Caroline –"

"I love you," she argued, eyes flashing dangerously. "I never stopped. I did what I had to do; I travelled and I lived_, loved. _But through it all, there wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think of you."

Klaus clenched his jaw, closing his eyes against the pain.

She loved him.

She'd thought of him.

He had waited for her, waited so that she could grow, so that she could live and decide what was right for her. He'd let her go, just as Hayley had said. And she'd come back to him. Again. Now that she was here, confessing all over again, he finally dared to hope.

"If you stay, then you _stay. _I will not lose you again, sweetheart. I can't. I mean that."

Caroline rolled her eyes. The action caught him off guard. "Stop trying to scare me, Klaus. It won't work."

He loved her enough to let her go the first time. That had been a moment of true growth for him. But now – now he was not strong enough. He would not let her go a second. He couldn't.

She saw the danger in his eyes and smiled, a pretty blonde distraction in a sheer blue blouse, settling herself comfortably on the edge of his bed. There was a challenge in her eyes as she stared at him.

"I know that this is forever," she remarked, licking her lips, body leaning back as she made herself comfortable against his pillows. "I'm not a naive little girl anymore."

No, she most certainly was not.

Caroline smiled at him, hand outstretched. "You are my last love, are you not?"

The question challenged him, mocked him.

All Klaus could do was take her hand.

He was a man found, a man drowned; the fierce look in her eyes held his tongue captive.

He kissed her soft lips, losing himself in her.

After a thousand years he'd finally found _home._

* * *

**As always, thank you for reading. **

**The inspiration for this story was the song **Heartlines **by **Florence & the Machine**.**

**Tears of Ebon-Grey**


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